


What We're Made Of

by AllTheDances



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Fast Food, Femdom, McNugget AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheDances/pseuds/AllTheDances
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short manual on how to feed a lion junk food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We're Made Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCat/gifts), [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts).



> Based on a [lovely post](http://allthedances.tumblr.com/post/138505812929/allthedances-yourtommyginger-lunaaltare) that slid across my Tumblr dash. Sometimes it's the oddest things that provide even odder inspiration. 
> 
> In the immortal words of yourtommyginger: _"Now you have to post it on AO3 so that everyone without tumblr can enjoy the tasty, processed goodness that is Tywin McNugget!!!!"_ Now here we are.

...

..

.

“What… What is this?”

“Just try it. You have to at least try this stuff once in your life.”

Sansa waved the small mass of luke-warm sponginess in front of his face. The lump was nowhere near appealing.

“I’ve lived this long without, my dear, I’ll die bereft as well.”

“Stop being so dramatic. It won’t kill you-”

“No.”

She dipped the thing in something near-cloying with the sweet-sour smell of everything artificial that made it. If Tywin were to guess, the bright sludge was one molecular deviation from being petroleum plastic.

“Look,” she said, in the soothing way that let him know she was scheming. “Your colours. You’re duty-bound to taste it now.”

The hunk of golden abhorrence twirled slowly in Sansa’s fingers as the thick scarlet condiment clung to it, looking just as slick as the grease it was partially covering. Tywin’s gut lurched at the thought of consuming fowl prepared by way of detritus slurry, binding agent, and compression. His mouth bent like he’d already eaten the thing, sneering, “I think not.”

When there was no reply, nothing witty or whining, Tywin looked from the vile meat-like product to the girl trying to corrupt his palette.

“Open your mouth,” she said. Her command at the brink of a whisper, but fully seated in the husky intonation that demanded his obedience - that made his cock twitch.

This girl, this woman, she’d already corrupted him in more ways than he’d ever willfully admit; most ways that were boundary-pressing in a far more enjoyable manner. But this… This was where he’d draw the line…

Blue eyes shed their innocence completely, hardened and glittered in a blend of mischief and assurance; in a way that made him… agreeable. Sansa would call it submissive, Tywin would call it willing, but at the bone of their companionship lived a trade of give-and-take that was only slightly skewed - or so he’d told himself. However, today, with the fast-food rot his Sansa felt bizarre urges for, Tywin felt himself give.

Keeping his gaze square, he opened his mouth for her. He bit through the squish of what could never qualify as flesh for her. Chewed the amount of times expected of him, and swallowed. Never once caring about what was in his mouth - that terror fully forgotten - but wholly focused the task; that he had done as she asked, in the manner she approved. Caring only that he’d pleased her, his Sansa.

And he did, please his Sansa. Her hand was tucked high on his inner thigh, fingers stoking little pets and scrapes against the fabric of his trousers, just shy of where she knew he needed attention. Her mouth was at his ear, just shy of touching, breathing a brush of warm air and a low rumble of adoration.

“Good boy,” his Sansa praised. 

“You have earned a reward,” his Sansa promised.

Tywin closed his eyes, not quite smiling, but sated all the same. Full on her - her hand moving higher between his legs ever slightly, her lips pressing into his skin ever gently - nourished by the food she allowed him.

...

..

.


End file.
